


School Days

by tardisswimmingpool



Category: BBC Sherlock
Genre: M/M, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 03:40:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardisswimmingpool/pseuds/tardisswimmingpool
Summary: Just a series of kidlock stories involving awkward little Mycroft Holmes and middle school heartthrob, Gregory Lestrade.





	School Days

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! It has been forever since I've written, and I really want to get back into my fanfictions, so here I am. This is just a trial run. If people like it, I'll write some more.

I awoke to the sound of bacon sizzling in a pan— a sign that my mother had gotten up early again. I rolled over onto my side and groaned as the clock struck 6:30. It was a Monday, the first day of the new semester, and I was praying that anything would happen to prevent me from walking out my front door. Because on the other side of my lawn began another year of hell. Mother told me that junior high would be a sanctuary compared to primary school, but I wasn't convinced. All the bullies that pushed me around on the playground weren't going anywhere. They would only get bigger, stronger, and there was no doubt in my mind that they would get meaner. 

I rubbed the crust from my eyes before throwing one leg over the side of the bed. My kid brother was still fast asleep with no intention of rising any time soon. At six years old, he was a lot lazier than one might expect, but it was better than the alternative. At least if he was sleeping, I got a break from his smart ass remarks. 

"Mike, Sher, breakfast is ready!" my mother's voice blared.

Sherlock stirred. 

"Best get up before she comes in here and tears the covers off. You don't want to end up on the floor again," I warned. 

The boy mumbled something that I couldn't make out and he slowly began to slip on his trousers. 

"Boys!"

"In a minute mama"

I buttoned up my shirt and looked at myself in the mirror, sighing. I wasn't the best looking thirteen year old. I was short for my age, I had a larger belly, and I had these ridiculous freckles that made people think I was younger than I was. All in all, I was pretty insecure about my appearance because it was the source of much ridicule from my classmates. Well, from everyone except Gregory. The thought of him made me smile a bit.

Gregory was my best friend. He was tall, handsome, and one of the more popular kids in my class. He was kind and caring and, unlike any of the other Neanderthals who resided at the top of the social hierarchy, he never made fun of me for my body. In fact, he stood up for me against the bullies. We had been pretty much inseparable since he pulled me out of a ditch some boys had thrown me into back in fifth grade. He was like a knight in shining armor, and, needless to say, I adored him. At least with him around, school wouldn't be so bad. 

"Boys! It's going to get cold!"

"We better go."

Breakfast was bland. Mother never was the best cook, but I wolfed it down as if I had never tasted eggs in my life. My mom watched me curiously.

"Mike, slow down or you'll choke," she said, "What's the big hurry?"

"Mycroft has a date with his boyfriend," Sherlock chuckled, and I smacked him hard in the shoulder.

"I do not!" I growled. "Mind your own damn business."

"Mike, language please!" Mother snapped at me.

"Sorry, mama." 

"Now what's so important?"

I bit my lip. Greg and I were supposed to meet up at the park and ride our bikes to school together. Usually I would ride the bus, but it was such a nice day, and I wanted to start it off right—that is, not having my lunch thrown out the window of a moving vehicle by eighth grade behemoths. That part alone wasn't unusual, but I had a voice in the back of my head telling me that if I mentioned it, Sherlock's little joke might raise some eyebrows. I could just tell her that I was meeting some friends, emphasis on the plural. But her gaze was unwavering and I realized that lying would be pointless.

"I'm meeting Greg at the park," I said, "We're going to bike to school."

I held my breath but she didn't seem to find anything odd about my statement. 

"Honey, I can drive you. I'm taking Sherlock to his first day of kindergarten anyway. It's not far, I can drop you off on the way."

"No, that's ok, I need the exercise."

"Well ok, but be careful. Make sure you wear a helmet."

"Yes, mom."

I finished my breakfast and set my dish in the sink. Sherlock's eyes followed me as I headed toward the front door. He slid out of his chair and ran after me. 

"Mycroft, are you and Gregory going to get married?" He chuckled as we stepped outside.

"Quit it, will you?"

"Mycroft and Gregory sitting in a tree. K.I.S.S.um...I.N.G!" 

"I'm serious, cut it out. Mom might hear you."

"So?"

"So..." My voice cut off.  
I figured it was in my best interest just to leave the subject alone.  
" Just forget it." 

I hopped on my bike and began riding towards the park, hoping that Sherlock wouldn't follow me. For once, he stayed put. It was a relief because I didn't know how much longer I could deal with his pestering. He really was annoying sometimes. But the problem was, he was right. Not about the boyfriend part (I wish) but I'd be lying if I said there wasn't something there between me and Greg. It could've just been my own fantasy, but I felt it in my heart that it was real. His bright smile, his goofy dance moves, the sound of his voice which was smooth as velvet when he sang—it made me melt.

But I couldn't possibly tell him. What if he responded negatively? What if I ruined our friendship? I didn't know what I would do without him, and my stomach hurt just thinking about it. As far as I was concerned, it was best to keep my feelings to myself. At least for the time being.

My thoughts were cut short by the sight of Prince Charming himself. He was waiting on the swing set, his bike leaning against a nearby tree. He was whistling to himself and kicking up wood chips when suddenly I caught his eye. He grinned.

"Long time no see, pal," he said cheerfully. 

It was true. Greg had been at summer camp for the past few weeks, and our only communication had been via letters. This was the first time I was seeing him and hearing his voice in 42 days (if you don't count the telephone call from a few nights before in order to schedule this meeting). I missed his stupid face which was just as beautiful as ever. 

"How have you been?" He jumped off the swing and walked over to hug me. 

"Fine," I shrugged, "it's been kinda boring around here without you."

"I keep telling you that you should come with me to camp. We could be bunk mates."

"You know I don't like camping. There's too many bugs. Plus, I'm afraid of the woods at night. It's really creepy."

"Well you're missing out. Maybe by next summer I can convince you."

"Good luck with that."

"You underestimate me. I happen to be very skilled in the art of persuasion."

"Whatever you say."

"In all honesty though," he said, "I missed you. It's really lonely without my partner in crime," he punched me playfully in the shoulder. "Come on, or we'll be late to class."

He rushed to his bike and hopped on, leaving me in the dust. His voice carried with the wind as he disappeared around the bend, telling me to hurry up. The corners of my lips curled up into a pathetic, love struck smile.


End file.
